


If I Could Taste Your Love

by bboiseux



Series: Slip and Fall If I Take One More Step [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Caretaking, Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, Date Night, F/F, F/M, Friends to Lovers (but not quite there yet), Friendship, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, Mutual Pining, Past Abuse (mentioned), Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, hand holding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-07-16 13:07:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16086737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bboiseux/pseuds/bboiseux
Summary: When you love someone, you take care of them.  Vex loves Zahra and she knows Zahra loves her back, so when Percy is out of town and Vex's thoughts turn to uncertainty, Vex knows she can find comfort in Zahra's arms.  Fjord loves Jester and he knows her feelings aren't the same--she flirts like that with everyone.  But when Beau vanishes after a date and Jester can't stop worrying, Fjord puts everything aside to take care of her.  Because you do that for a friend.  Beau loves Keyleth and she doesn't know how Keyleth feels, but surely her own feelings will pass.  Right?  Still, when Keyleth is knocked out from alcohol poisoning the day after their date, Beau has to stay and take care of her.  It's just the right thing to do.  All taking place on the same day and connected by theme, these are three stories about love and care--whether that love is established, unrequited, or just beginning to bloom.[Takes place in my Modern Non-Magical AU series,Slip and Fall If I Take One More Step.]Reading Time:abt 1 hour and 6 minutes.Status:Updating





	1. Vex/Zahra

**Author's Note:**

> **Chapter 1:** Vex/Zahra  
>  **Chapter 2:** Fjord/Jester  
>  **Chapter 3:** Beau/Keyleth

“You know Percy,” said Cassandra, her voice flowing out of the car speakers, “He’ll spend a few days locked in the office reviewing the papers and then be ready to jump on the next plane out.”

Vex squinted into the dark and made out the turn off for the University’s Studio Arts building. “I’m trying to convince him to spend a few weeks in Whitestone over the summer.  I know you’re frustrated.”

Even over the phone, Vex heard the sharp intake of breath.  “I entirely understand his hesitance.  I have plenty of help here running the company.”

Vex pulled into a space and put the car into park with a light jerk, leaning back in her seat.  “Not really the point, darling.”  She slid out of the car, disconnecting the Bluetooth and grabbing her bag in one smooth movement.  Phone balanced between chin and shoulder, she shut the door and started towards the studio.  “If Percy is hesitant, then you have every right to be too.  I’ll keep working on him.”

Vex could have sworn Cassandra let out a soft chuckle.  “For all your wiles, you’re going to have trouble overcoming generations of De Rolo familial coldness.  I’m sorry, but I’m not holding my breath.”  And then, as if an afterthought, “But I wish you the best of luck.  I really do appreciate it.”

Vex’s heels clacked across the pavement as she approached the Arts building.  The building was bursting with light, throwing beams of white out into the night.  “You get him to and from the plane.  I’ll deal with everything else.”

“I already have the car waiting for him.  I’m sure he’ll call when he’s down.”

Vex gave a quick glance at the time on her phone as she pushed through the doors.  “When you see him, tell him I have a meeting for the next couple hours.  If he can’t get me, I’ll call him.”

“Done.  Take care, Vex.”

“You too.  I’m sending you all the hugs and kisses you don’t want.”

Cassandra hung up with her usual abruptness and Vex dropped the phone into her bag, sighing quietly as she walked swiftly through the halls.

She really felt for the girl—woman—but she had no clue how she would get Percy more interested in the family business.  It was especially difficult with them living on the other side of the country.  Maybe . . . but it wasn’t time to start thinking about those things.  Percy was on a plane and Vex had her own business to take care of.  She pulled open the doors to Studio C.

Students were roaming the room, setting up their supplies and easels set up in a circle, getting ready for the session.  The room smelled of paint and thinner and glue and pastels—a thick, dry smell that crept into the nose.  One of the students had turned on the University radio station on their phone and some quiet pop music drifted in the air.

As Vex entered, Zahra waved and called her over.  She finished the conversation she was having with a student and turned to Vex with a gleaming smile.  “Hello, darling,” she said in light tones, “We’re just getting ready.”  Her hand settled on Vex’s upper arm, a familiar touch.  “You comfortable getting changed in my office, like usual?”

“Of course,” said Vex, “Just open session today?”

“All freshman, I’m afraid.  I’ll be giving them the usual speech about respect.  Tonight I’m focusing on speed and quick line work, so short poses only.  Does that work for you?”  Zahra walked Vex towards the office door on the far side of the room.

“Darling, I can handle anything you throw at me.”

Zahra’s smile went a little wicked and she whispered, “I’m sure you can.

Zahra’s office was mostly shelves of books and mountains of paper, with enough space cleared on a desk to access the computer.  Vex set her things down on the desk chair and stripped down and then covered herself up with a robe.  She let her thick braid hang loosely at the back.  She knew she’s just have to reposition once she was posing.  Outside, in the studio, she could hear Zahra loudly proclaiming the rules of respect and telling all students to turn off their phones.  The music stops abruptly.  As Vex opened the door and walked out into the room of waiting students, Zahra was discussing the focus of today’s session.

“. . . the detail in the torso.  The human body folds.  The skin and fat roll.  And these details are critical to a realistic, accurate, and, most of all, believable figure drawing.”

Vex walked into the circle of easels and stood next to a stool that had been draped with a cloth.  Zahra acknowledged her with a nod.

“Our model for tonight is Vex.  You will likely see her some more throughout the semester.  Please be mindful of the work she is doing.  She must maintain a steady pose for us.  We are only able to do our work because of her control and concentration.  Remember what I said before: no talking and especially no photos or video.”

There an attempt at a whisper on one side of the circle—two girls, heads close together, one with straight black hair that covered half her face and another with almond skin and a full head of curls, tipped with bright blue.  The speaker was the curly-haired girl and she was not remotely capable of a whisper.  Vex just made out “—gonna fuuuuuuuck” before Zahra cut in.

“Miss Lavorre.”  Zahra didn’t need to shout or even raise her voice.  She just had a natural tone of command.  “No sexual comments, no matter how quiet, are welcome in this studio.  Understood?”

The curly-haired girl nodded enthusiastically and said, “I’m sorry, Professor Hydris.”  Then she looked at Vex.  “I’m sorry.”

“It’s perfectly alright, dear,” said Vex.”

The girl opened her mouth to speak and Zahra said, “And that is not an invitation to chat.”

The mouth clamped shut.

Zahra turned and looked around the room at the other students.  “Okay, let’s let Vex settle in and then we’ll get started.”  She looked at Vex and lowered her voice.  “My favorite student.”  She laughed quietly.  “Make yourself comfortable.  We’re going to start with a sitting position, hands, open palm, in lap.”

Vex nodded and slipped out of her robe, letting it fall to the floor.  She sat down, maintaining a natural, relaxed posture in her spine, letting her arms hang loose.  The backs of her hands were cool against her thighs.  Her long braid was soft and familiar against the middle of her back.  She cast her eyes downward and studied her long fingers, the folds in her palm.

“Are we ready, Vex?”

Vex glanced up and nodded.

“Alright.”  Zahra clapped her hands.  “Ten minute poses, because I am extremely generous.  Capture the essential details to represent the form.  Cali, remember, face, not torso for you.”  The girl with long black hair over her face nodded, eyes averted. “Okay, go!”

The students launched into action, their bodies still, their eyes flicking between the canvas in front of them and Vex’s body.  Zahra prowled the room, watching, guiding the students in little ways here and there.

Vex retreated into the feel of her body.  There was something meditative about modeling.  You needed to keep yourself firmly in touch with what your body was doing.  Keep your body fixed and still.  It brought an intense awareness of the little things you never really thought about.  How often random parts of you itched (like her pinky toe, right now).  Or how your body folded and molded itself to its surroundings.  Sitting doing something else, even naked, you never really thought about how your body changed when you moved in different ways.  Like this, you stared at your body, wondering at the transformation (like the way her thigh spread across the stool).  She noticed a slight curve to her back and pulled herself upright again.  Barely noticeable to anyone else.

“Vex, could you put your hands above your head, right hand gripping left wrist?”

Vex shifted, surprised that the ten minutes was already up.  She held her hands over her head in a relaxed position or, at least, a position that appeared relax.  Vex new that her triceps would feel a little burn by the end of the ten minutes.

Posed like this, she could take in the students.  Each was so absorbed in their work.  There was something about that, which was endearing: a naked woman sitting in the middle of a crowd making not even a ripple.  For all her own sensuality, Vex was pleased to be able to sit in her natural state and not be sexualized.  It was one of the reasons she did these sessions.  Well, that and Zahra.

Vex moved from pose to pose.  Now sitting.  Now standing.  Reaching.  Crouching.  Stretching.  As she moved through the motions, it became easier and easier to let her mind wander.  Unfortunately, her mind largely wandered into the projects she had to work on.

She had the project budget for Emon House to complete and the grant application for the extra wing.  And the application for the outreach program.  And the city budget planning cycle was starting up, which meant it was time to schedule appointments with the council members.  Not to mention reviewing the applications for the government subsidizes for the lunch program.  And the community kitchen funding issues.  And even Keyleth had that larger project for the housing program.  Vex had to remember to talk to Kash about that.

Vex heard Zahra’s instructions through her thoughts and bent her legs slightly, stretching towards her feet like she was reaching to pick something up.  Her braid dangled over her shoulder.

The major problem was that the foundation hadn’t had a good fundraising year.  Even with the gala and adding an extra pledge cycle in, they had come up short.  True, most of their funding came from the government subsidizes, but the decrease in private donations hurt.  Less money to bring in children from outside the city.  Less money for clothing.  Less money for necessary repairs to the facilities.  She thought there were some cost saving measures that could make up the difference, but it would take creative accounting to make it work.

She started to let out a broad sigh but stopped herself mid-breath and let the air out in a slow stream.  It wouldn’t do to mess up the pose.

Vex’s mind continued its winding motion until Zahra clapped her hands and announced the end of the session.

“Okay, everyone get cleaning up!  Please remember to wash out the sinks when you are done.  If you have any questions, ask.”

Vex was pulling her robe back on when Zahra sauntered over.  “Thank you, dear.”

Vex flashed her a smile.  “Always a pleasure standing naked in the cold.”

“If it really was cold, please tell me.  I can have a space heater next time.”

Vex rubbed her eyes.    “No, it was fine.  Just a little punchy tonight.”

“Nothing too serious, I hope?”  Although Zahra’s voice positioned it as a tease, her face painted the comment with some genuine concern.

Vex waved it away.  “Absolutely not, darling.  I’m going to get my clothes back on.  You tend to your flock.”

Dressing was quick and, in no time, Vex was ready to leave, but Zahra stopped her.  “Kash should be gone by the time you get there and I need to get things cleaned up here, so just let yourself in with your key.  Make yourself comfortable.”

As they walked to the door, Vex glanced over at the distracted student body.  “And how comfortable would you like me to get, exactly?  Any requests?”  She’d leaned in close so that her lips almost grazed Zahra’s cheek.

Zahra stepped back, one eyebrow arched.  “I always wondered why you liked to stand naked in front of me for hours before our little dinners.”

Vex swung the door open and paused at the threshold.  “How else can I make sure you take your time and don’t just leap in head first?”

Zahra chuckled as Vex pulled the door closed.  “You absolute cow.  I’ll see you in a bit.”

It was a quick walk back to the car and not that long a drive from there to Zahra’s.  Vex turned on the radio to catch the eleven o’clock news as she went, her mind mostly blocking out the words, her mind drifting with the patterns of dark and light that strolled past her window.  Late city driving was always an exercise in care and patience.  In the country, your mind could turn off, following the gentle curves of the roads.  A city was always awake and never gentle.  As if to highlight the point, in the middle of the traffic report, the radio cut out and the ringing of her phone took over.  “Keyleth Ashari,” said the phone in a mechanical feminine voice.

Vex glanced at the time.  Keyleth was usually in bed at this time of night.  Unless it was a club night.

“Answer,” said Vex and there was a click.  “Hello, Keyleth, darling.”

“Vex!”  Keyleth’s voice caused the speakers to crackle and Vex jumped on the volume control, adjusting it down a quarter turn. “She just left!”

“Who just left, dear?”

“Beau!”

Vex let the name process for a moment and then it clicked.  “Your date?”

“Yes!  She just left my apartment.”  The energy was undeniable, but Keyleth’s voice also had a ragged edge, like she was coming down with a sore throat.

Vex smiled.  “Well, from your voice I assume—wait.”  Vex went over the timeline in her head.  “Wasn’t your date _last_ night?”

“Yes!”

Vex tried to imagine all the scenarios where a date would last over twenty-four hours.  And then she pictured Keyleth and threw them all out.  “Was it good?”

“Yes!”  There was a long pause and Vex was about to interject when Keyleth started up again.  “Well, it started off pretty badly and then it got pretty good and then I think I got alcohol poisoning, but—”

“Keyleth!”

“It’s okay.  I’m okay, Vex.  Really.”  Keyleth finally relaxed a little.  “Vex, she took care of me all day and we talked and . . . and it was nice.”

“I’m glad.  You’ll—”

A blip came across the speaker and the mechanical voice said, “Darling.”

“Keyleth, dear, you’ll have to tell me all about it.  But right now Percy’s calling and I need to make sure he got to Whitestone alright.”

“Of course!  Good night!”

“Good night.”

The call clicked off and switched over to Percy.

“Hello, darling,” said Vex, “I hope you arrived safe and sound.”

Percy’s voice filled the car, a rich baritone.  “The plane was right on time and the journey was uneventful.  I think we prefer that nowadays.”

Just the sound of his voice made Vex’s spirit rise up in her chest.  Knowing he was okay gave her a lightness of being.  “Oh, I was hoping you had some dashing adventure,” she said archly.

“Well, I’m afraid not.  Cassandra’s here—” There was a “Hello, Vex” from the background.  “—and we’re going over some of the paperwork before dinner, so not the most exciting time, but necessary.”

“I’m heading to a late dinner myself.”

“Zahra’s?”

“Yes.  We have some catching up to do.”

“Well, at least you’ll be getting a good meal out of it.  Cassandra’s insisting on cooking for me and you know how that goes.”

Vex thought she heard a very distinct, “Oh fuck you too” in the background.

“It’s not like mother or father could cook either—” Percy paused as if listening.  “Yes, or me.  I’m just saying we could order in.  There’s no need to strain our meager talents.”

Vex let the one-sided sibling bickering go on for a minute or two.  It was nice to hear that kind of banter again every once in a while.  But she was also only two turns away from Zahra’s brownstone, so she cut in with a laugh.  “You too enjoy each other.  Percy, I’ve got to get off, but I’ll call tomorrow afternoon.  Don’t stay up too late with the paperwork.”

“The sooner I finish, the sooner I come home to you.  I can let a few nights go for that.”

Vex smiled, but she also sighed, picturing Cassandra’s face going tight and sad.  “Take all the time you need, darling.  Maybe go out to eat a whole lot with your sister.  She would probably appreciate the breaks too.”

There was a pause on his end, then “I think we can manage that, dear.  But just a few days here.”

“Of course.  I love you.”

“I love you too, Vex.”

They said their goodbyes just in time for Vex to spy a small parking space a couple houses up from Zahra’s place.  After a careful maneuvering job, she was out of the car and jogging lightly up the steps of the brownstone.

The front light was on, but she could also see, through the glass of the door, that there was more light flooding out from the back of the house.  The kitchen, she guessed.  She tried the knob and it turned smoothly, unlocked.  She stepped inside and shut the door.  The light was definitely coming from the kitchen.

“Hello?” she called.

Kash leaned out of the kitchen doorway, drying his hands.  He was in his EMT uniform, chestnut hair pulled back in a ponytail and hidden under a blue cap.  “Oh, hey, Vex,” he said, “Sorry, I’m just a little behind.”  He tossed the hand towel into the kitchen and walked up the hall, grabbing his keys off the hall table.  “Dinner’s on the island.  I left a note. You know where everything is.  I won’t be back till seven, so . . .”  He shrugged.  As he passed her at the door, he gave her a tap on her upper arm with the back on his hand.  “You’re looking good.  Take care of yourself.”

Vex gave him a smile, not her brightest, tinged a little with sadness.  Kash had taken to saying that since her accident, when he’d been the first responder to the scene.  “You too, Kash.”

And he was out the door.

Vex set her purse on the nightstand, taking the place of Kash’s keys, and walked to the kitchen.  Her heels echoed in the emptiness of the house.

Looking in the kitchen, she smiled.  Kash was always doing something wonderful with food.  It had become a passion of his—he’d learned to channel some of his intense energies into more positive activities.  He said there was something uplifting about taking the death of animals and vegetables and crafting them into an enjoyable experience.  Vex suspected that statement summed up Kash on multiple levels.

Tonight, there was a spread on the kitchen island: a bottle of white chilling in ice, a serving platter of carved roast chicken, some kind of sauce in a serving bowl, a pot of cold soup, and a bowl of strawberries.  All prefaced by a crisp white piece of paper.  Vex picked it up.  It read: “Vex— Sauce goes on the chicken.  Don’t put it on until ready to eat.  Vichyssoise is meant to be eaten cold.  Don’t heat it up.  The wine is good.  Take it out of the ice when you set the table.  Drink in moderation.  Or as much as you need to loosen up.  It’s up to you.  –Kash.”  She put the note down and laughed.

By the time the front door opened and Zahra’s footsteps sounded on the hall floor, the table was set, the wine had warmed slightly, and the dining room was illuminated by candles.  Zahra stood in the doorway, the candle light flickering across her deep brown skin.  She shrugged off her jacket and reached back to hang it in the hall.  “Well, darling, we’re very romantic this evening.”  She was smiling that slightly pompous yet loving smile that she used when she was in a playful mood.

Vex walked up and rested her hands on Zahra’s hips, feeling the warm curve beneath the clothes.  She leaned up and gave Zahra a light kiss.  “I thought it fit the occasion.  I haven’t seen you in a month.”

As they walked over to the table, Zahra let her hand play on Vex’s back.  “Yes, we’ve all been a bit busy, haven’t we?”

The dinner was pleasant: the food excellent, the company better.  Vex was astonished at how little she and Zahra had seen each other recently.  They were used to busy periods, when life just didn’t allow them the time out from everything else to spend with each other.  Tax and budget season was one for Vex.  The start of the term at the university was one for Zahra.  But they’d always managed to find the time for little moments here and there.  Sometime that had stopped.  Right now, Vex was learning, for the first time, about the new art installation Zahra was working on and realizing that she hadn’t found time to tell Zahra about her partnership with Keyleth’s non-profit.  They had a lot of catching up to do.

But they shared and reminisced and Zahra was just as intoxicating to be around as she always was.  She could make Vex laugh and smile in a way no one else could, not even Percy.  Zahra was funny and biting and clever, but also caring and powerful.  If she knocked someone down, they deserved it.  And if they need protection, she would provide it.  She was regal and proud, but never cold.  Vex found her own calm exterior slipping when she was around her, like Zahra held a key to every emotion locked inside Vex’s chest and all Zahra had to do was turn it to open Vex up.

On their second glass of wine and nibbling at the strawberries, Vex felt a smile spread across her face.  There was something she loved so intensely about Zahra that she couldn’t quite nail down.  It was fundamentally other than Vex’s love for Percy.  Her lips still slightly red and sticky from the juice of the strawberry, Vex reached out and drew Zahra into a kiss.

Zahra and Percy were so alike and yet so different.  Of course, they both had metalworker’s arms.  Vex never forgot that detail.  There was something intoxicating about their ability to pin her down when she wanted it.  They were both artists, but they thought in such different ways.  Percy was systematic and rhythmic, every move calculated and organized.  Zahra was precise, yes, but also an improvisor, changing and flowing in the moment.  And, of course, they couldn’t be more different in their looks.  Percy was so pale, his hair a shock of white.  Zahra was a rich brown, her hair black and cropped short.  They both tickled between Vex’s thighs.

Most different of all, was the energy Vex felt with each of them in and out of the bedroom.  When she was with Percy there was a coolness, like they were both holding back, dancing around their feelings.  But when they were alone, they exposed everything.  They devoured each other, bodies in constant hungry motion, taking and taking, until they were sated and collapsed, satisfied.  With Zahra, they were hot and flirty no matter the place—sly words and salacious eyes.  But when they were alone, it was like time slowed down.  Zahra was intimately attentive, making sure that every inch of Vex was taken care of.  And Vex felt like she could never quite return the favor.  Instead, Vex was a canvas for Zahra to lavish her touches, painting her with touches broad and delicate and then deep and vivid.  Vex gave what Zahra let her give, but she mostly felt nourished and enraptured.

Now, after, Vex held Zahra tight—their bodies still slick and sticky in the cool air—and massaged Zahra’s lower lip with her own.  “I’ve missed you.”

Zahra grinned and kissed down Vex’s neck.  “We do have a nice way together, don’t we?”

Vex relaxed into the touch, leaning back and sighing as Zahra continued her downward journey.  She gave Vex a peck on her clavicle and propped herself up on one elbow.  She was giving Vex her curious face.

“I feel like you’re not quite as relaxed as you should be.  I’m almost insulted.  I thought it was a rather incredible performance, even if I do say myself.”

Vex laughed and smacked Zahra lightly.  “Oh, shut up, darling.”  She adjusted the pillows and sat up, the sheets thin and cool across her lap.  “I’m fine.  I’ve just been in a mood recently.  I was hoping to put it all aside for tonight.”

Zahra pulled herself to sitting, legs crossed, back, somehow, still regally upright.  She gave an exaggerated shake of her head.  “Sometimes, I fear you think I’m just a good time.”

Vex smiled and leaned over, Zahra leaning in to meet her halfway.  They took a minute, lips locked together, Vex’s hand gripping the nape of Zahra’s neck.  When they separated, Vex said, “Well . . .”

It was Zahra’s turn to laugh, throwing her head back.  “You know I love your playful side, but—” Her face relaxed.  “—seriously, your mind hasn’t turned off since I got here.  You don’t usually overthink anything, but, well, Percy, if I’m being honest.”

Vex traced a finger along the white sheet.  “I suppose he’s part of it.  I’ve just been—well, I’ve just been thinking about change and . . . moving on.”  She looked up into Zahra’s gaze.

Zahra let out a little rush of air.  “Oh dear. No, I think this is far too heavy for my bed.  What do you say to robes and some drinks?  I’m sure warm white wine is quite palatable, despite Kash’s claims to the contrary.”

Vex smiled and they slid out of bed.  Zahra slipping on a robe and passing Vex her own from the closet.  After pouring liberal glasses of wine, they settled onto the high-backed loveseat in the living room, Vex reclining back against Zahra, Zahra’s arm resting lightly on Vex’s chest.

Zahra sipped at her glass and then set it on the side table.  “So?”

Vex sighed, deep and heavy, and took more than a sip from her glass.

Zahra cleared her throat.  “I suppose I should clear the air, just to give you a start.  Darling, are you ending this?  What we have?  I trust you to be honest.  No sugarcoating, please.”

Vex took another drink and put the half-drained glass on the coffee table.  She reached a hand up and played in Zahra’s hair, nuzzling into her bosom.  “No.  No.  I—Things might need to change, but there’s nothing—” She stopped and stared into the distance.  “I love you.  I don’t think things are any more complicated than that for us.”

Zahra squeezed Vex close.  “Well, that’s a relief, at least.  So what’s this talk of moving on?”

Vex adjusted the robe, pulling it tighter over her front.  She sighed.  “Did I tell you that Keyleth is dating someone?”  She hesitated.  “Or she went on a date, at least.”

“No, you hadn’t mentioned it.  Should I have heard about it?”

Vex laughed quietly.  “No, I guess not.  It was only yesterday.”  She lapsed back into silence.

As the silence stretched on, Zahra pulled her closer and kissed the top of her head.  “Anything else?”

“I talked to Cassandra earlier tonight.”

“Oh?  And how is that little icicle?”

Vex didn’t like that she let out a little snort at that comment or that a smile curled on her face, but they happened nonetheless.  “That’s unnecessarily cruel, Zahra.  She’s been through a lot.  She’s still going through a lot.”

“I’m only saying that there’s nothing a regular fuck couldn’t fix in that girl.”

Vex tilted her head up so that Zahra had the proper view of her disdainfully arched eyebrow.  “Not everyone is you.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, darling.”  The wicked angle of her lips said quite the opposite.

Smiling, Vex said, “Maybe I’ll take you along to Whitestone next time.  The despoiler of the innocent.”

“And who in this room was ever innocent?”

They laughed together at that and Vex snuggled even tighter into Zahra’s warm chest.  Like this, she could hear the steady beat of Zahra’s heart in her ear, filling her mind with a reliable rhythm.  Wrapped up, in Zahra’s arms, body relaxed and satisfied, Vex felt like her mind should be able to follow the same cues and let her rest.  It didn’t.

And Zahra wasn’t about to let her rest either.  “Darling, I feel like you’re skating around whatever’s going on in your head.  Haven’t we learned that it’s better to face anything head on?”  She tilted Vex’s head back and smiled.  “Especially, when you have allies by your side.”

Vex took in the sweet smile painting Zahra’s lips.  “Everything really is a battle for you, isn’t it?”

“You have to gird yourself for life. You know that just as well as I do.”

Vex winced.  “We live a truly comfortable and privileged life.”

“That doesn’t change where we came from.”

Vex breathed deep, feeling the clutch in her chest.  When she spoke, it was softer than she meant it to be.  Not a whisper, but breathy and faint.  “But wouldn’t you rather just forget?

Vex could feel Zahra’s body go rigid, just for a moment, but then Zahra folded Vex in both arms, resting her chin on Vex’s head, and said, “We cannot forget how we were forged.  That fire made us the powerful people we are today.”

“Zahra, what you went through was so much worse than—“

Zahra’s voice cut across Vex’s.  “No.  We do not compare pain.  The scars we bear are ours alone and not for anyone else to diminish.”

“Zahra . . .”

“I will not let you bury what you suffered again.  It doesn’t matter if he never hit you, like my father did, the scars are still there.  The pain is real.”

Vex instinctually curled her legs up to her stomach and pulled herself deeper into Zahra.  “This isn’t what I want to talk about.”

“I’m sorry, darling.”

Vex swiped at the tears welling up in her eyes.  “I feel like a stupid teenager again.  Everything—everything’s just so confusing.”

Zahra lifted a stray strand of hair out Vex’s face and tucked it behind her ear.  “What’s so confusing, dear?”

Vex nudged herself free from Zahra’s grip, giving a little kiss to Zahra’s hand.  She sat up, cross-legged, back against the arm of the loveseat.  She wanted to see Zahra’s face.  Smoothing the robe against her leg (she was certain silk was meant to feel sexier than she was feeling at the moment), Vex said, “We’ve spent so long fighting to make things better.  It’s been . . . eight years now?”  Vex picked at the band holding her braid in place, and pulled it off.  “I see these lost, displaced children every day and I fight to get every dollar of support I can for them.”  Her fingers played with the strands of hair and began to pull the braid apart.  “And that’s most of my life.  Every day.  For eight years.”  The braid disintegrated easily, hair tumbling around her face.  She ran her fingers through it and smoothed it back.  “And I’m so tired.”

Zahra reached out and took Vex’s hand.  She gave a reassuring squeeze.

“I spend all of this time making sure that there’s enough money, there’s enough security.  And I’m not fooling myself, darling.  I live well.  I’m not suffering.  I just—“  Vex broke off and twisted her hair into a messy bun, wrapping it in place on top of her head.  When she was done, she continued, “I’d just like to be selfish now.  That’s really it.  And I know it’s wrong.  But I don’t think I care.”

Zahra fixed Vex with a skeptical look.  “And what, pray tell, is selfish.  According to you?”

“I want to stop.  I want to stop helping people.  I want to have kids and only worry about them.  I want my own little world to care for.  I want my own family.”  Vex nodded slowly.  “That’s what’s selfish.”

“Darling . . .”  Zahra didn’t wait, she simply reached out and pulled Vex in for a kiss.  It was quick, but soft, not Zahra’s usual style.  She cupped Vex’s face between her hands, running her thumbs gently against Vex’s slightly damp cheeks.  “Wanting a future for yourself is not selfish.”

Vex took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  “That’s very rational.”  She laughed, breathy, deep in her chest.  “I wish I could feel it.”

“That’s what time is for, darling.”  Zahra took a sip of her wine and set the glass back down.  “What does Percy think of all this?”

This time is was a sharp intake of breath from Vex.  “I, ah, haven’t talked to him about it yet.”

“Ah.”  It was a simple and clear response.

“He’s still hiding from some parts of his past, I think.  And we can’t do this until he faces them.”

“Then you need to talk to him, not me.  You know that, dear heart.”  Zahra stood up and held out her hand to Vex.

Vex nodded.  “I know.”  She took Zahra’s hand and let herself be pulled up.

Zahra wrapped her arms around Vex’s waist, locking her close, and nibbled at her lips.  “You are the most beautiful and capable woman I have ever known.”

Vex ducked her head away from the attention, a blush on her cheeks, embarrassment at her tears.  “You’ve always thought very highly of me.”

Zahra leaned her head down and looked Vex in the eyes.  “I’ve always been right.”  She kissed her again, that rare softness.  “You can walk in a room and command it with a look.  You can snap your fingers and move the world.”  She kissed Vex again, teasing Vex’s gaze back upward until her head was inclined up to Zahra’s lips.  “So take control, darling.”

They lingered there, by the sofa, arms entwined about one another, lips massaging lips and then skin, until Zahra led them back to bed, for the few hours left to the night.  When Vex awoke from a deep sleep (borne of overwhelming satisfaction and calm), she was tangled in the sheets, laying half naked in the cool morning air.   Zahra’s space was empty and Vex could smell the sharp odor of coffee drifting from the kitchen.  She rolled over and stretched with a mighty yawn.

She thought about last night and her mind drifted more to the words than the actions, to her semi-confession to Zahra, and Zahra’s advice.

Leaning out of bed, she grabbed her phone (hastily tossed to the floor last night).  There were a few emails waiting her attention and a missed call from Pike.  The emails could wait and . . . she hesitated but ignored Pike’s call for now.  Instead, she found Percy’s number with his picture next to it and hit call.

She didn’t expect him to answer.  In fact, she hoped he wouldn’t.  If he was awake enough to get his phone, then he was working too hard or too late or both.  But he didn’t answer.

The call clicked over to voicemail and a familiar voice came on.  Vex laid back and listened to the brief message (“You have reached Percival Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III.  Leave a message and a number if you would like that message returned.”) and she couldn’t help the smile that painted her lips.  When the beep came, she held the phone close, that smile still on her face.

“I love you, darling.”


	2. Fjord/Jester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn’t that Fjord was in love. He just had a crush and he knew it. And, hell, Jester probably knew it too. She had to with the way she shamelessly flirted but clearly didn’t mean anything. She always said she loved to make him blush. Or maybe she just liked making him blush and she didn’t have any clue how he felt. The point being that Fjord was confused. But he knew he wasn’t in love. Because a crush was awkward enough.

Fjord had his t-shirt halfway over his head when he heard Jester’s voice ring out.  He knew that his door had been pushed open just wide enough for her to push her head through.  It was a regular occurrence.  Enough that Fjord had thought about talking to her about boundaries.  Except he could never bring himself to do it.

“Fjord, have you heard from Beau?  I sent her five texts this morning and she hasn’t even read them.”

Fjord pulled the white shirt down, straightened his beat-up jeans, and opened the door all the way.  Jester was leaning against the door frame, phone clutched in one hand, biting her lip.

 “Sorry, Jess.  Can’t say I have.”

She visibly sagged.

“Why?  Something wrong?”

“No,” said Jester.  She drew the word out as if to say “but” and continued, as the two of them walked up the hall to, well, the room that served as everything but a bedroom (and with Beau crashing, it had even turned into that). “It’s just that she had a date last night and she’s not back.”  She shot Fjord a wide-eyed look and collapsed on the couch—the couch where Beau was usually still sleeping at this time of day.

Fjord headed into the kitchen and started rummaging through the fridge.  “Jess, you know Beau.  She probably got shitfaced and spent the night playing nude twister with her date until they both passed out.  Why are you worried?”

“I just thought she’d text me back!”

“Beau doesn’t answer her phone most of the time.”  Fjord cracked some eggs and started heating up the stove.  “She’s a grown ass woman.  She can take care of herself.”  He paused, then added, “She can take care of herself and about ten other people.”  As he scrambled the eggs, he added, “Beau’s the last person I’d worry about.  She may not know what she’s doing, but she gets it done.”

There was a pause as he cooked up his eggs.  Finally, he sat down at the kitchen table.

Jester propped herself up on the back of the couch and rested her chin on her hands.  “I know, but she’s been so sad recently.”

“I thought she seemed pretty happy when she left.”

“Well, yeah, she was happy when she was going on a date.  Duh!”  Jester played her fingers through her blue-tipped curls, pulling one tight and letting it spring back.  “I mean . . . the rest of the time.  Haven’t you noticed she’s here when we leave and when we get back?  Half the time she’s just on the couch.  She hasn’t gone out with Yasha and Molly in a month.  She doesn’t even visit me at the coffee shop anymore!”  Jester threw her arms up and disappeared behind the couch.

“I didn’t notice.  Is she okay?”

Jester popped up from behind the couch.  She was frowning.  “I don’t know.  She said she was only going to be here for a couple weeks and it’s been almost two months.  And I don’t think she’s gotten a single interview since that one where she cursed the manager out.”

Fjord was eating quickly.  He had to leave for work in ten minutes.  “The convenience store on Broad St.”

“Yeah.”  Jester hung halfway over the back of the couch, dangling her hands.  “Just—well, what if the date didn’t go well?”  Jester sighed, loud and long.

“Jess, I get your worry.  I really do.  But I don’t think Beau is that bad.  And if she’s going to get bad it’s not going to be over some girl.”  Fjord put down his fork with a clank.  “I mean, I’m not a prude—”

Jester snorted and covered her mouth.

Fjord scowled.  “I’m not.  But since we met her, that girl has got more random ass than I can count.  I can’t figure out where she finds these girls!”

Fjord didn’t even look, he knew _that_ smile was creeping on Jester’s face.  He could hear it in the giggle.  “It’s not that hard to find people to sleep with, Fjord!  I could find you a dozen girls or guys today if you wanted.”

Fjord could feel the warmth spreading across his cheeks.  He picked up his plate and hurried to the sink.  “I—I—that’s not the point.  I’m just saying that Beau isn’t going to lose it over some girl.  You don’t need to be worrying about her, alright?”

He risked a glance over at Jester and saw that her face had squeezed into deep concentration, then he turned back to the sink to wash the couple dishes that were there.  A minute later, he felt Jester’s hand on his back and then she was squeezing him in a hug, her face mushed against his back.  He could feel her smile.

“Thank you, Fjord.  You know how to make me feel better.”

He turned off the water and reached for the towel.  “I just don’t want you worrying.  Makes me sad to see you frown.”  He worked at the plate until the wetness was completely gone.  All the while, Jester’s arms still wrapped around him.

Finally, she pulled back.  “You’re the best roommate, Fjord!”

Fjord let his breath out slowly, making sure Jester couldn’t see.  “No problem, Jess.”

It wasn’t that Fjord was in love.  He just had a crush and he knew it.  And, hell, Jester probably knew it too.  She had to with the way she shamelessly flirted but clearly didn’t mean anything.  She always said she loved to make him blush.  Or maybe she just liked making him blush and she didn’t have any clue how he felt.  The point being that Fjord was confused.  But he knew he wasn’t in love.  Because a crush was awkward enough.

He hadn’t planned to feel this way (did you ever?).  He’d simply posted that he was looking for someone to split rent.  He’d made it clear he was a guy, so he hadn’t expected a woman to answer.  And with a name like Jester he hadn’t even realized until she showed up to look at an apartment with him.

This cute girl with blue-tipped curls, warm brown skin, and a massive grin had bounced up to him in front of the building and said, “Hi!  Are you Fjord?”

He still remembered the way her tongue wrapped its way around his name.  He had choked down his shock and said, “Ah, hi.  Nice to meet you.  Jester?”

Even then, before he knew her, her smile warmed him.  “That’s right,” she said.  And then she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially.  Fjord found himself leaning in reflexively to listen.  “My mama named me Maryanne, but I named myself Jester.”

Fjord blinked a few times, feeling unaccountably flustered.  “Uh, is that because you’re funny?”

Jester’s grin somehow grew bigger.  “I am funny, but it’s because I like to make people laugh.”  She gave Fjord a tap on the arm and he was surprised at how much it hurt.  The girl had muscle.  “Don’t worry, I won’t tease you too badly.”  And then she looked up at the building and said, “Should we look at the apartment?”

That first day they’d looked at the apartment and then grabbed coffee at the place that Jester now worked (the manager said that they made more money off her working there than they paid her.  Fjord wished she was joking).  Jester had made him smile more than anyone in a long while.  She said if they got the apartment, her main goal would be to see him laugh or at least to see his teeth when he smiled.  Fjord had smiled, closed lips, at that.  But it had been a real smile, even if it wasn’t as broad as Jester liked.

That first day Jester hadn’t made a single sly sexual reference.  After they had lived together for a month, Fjord understood how much self-control that must have taken.  The first time she had made him blush had been one night when they were getting dinner ready.  They didn’t have time for it on the weekdays between school and work, but on the weekends they fit in some free time between studying and things like grocery shopping and, pretty quickly, that settled in to making dinner together once a week.

(In all honesty, they were both shit at cooking, but over a couple of weekends they at least learned how to cut vegetables without cutting fingers and cook pasta without it burning to the bottom of the pot.  Jester had even shown Fjord that it was better to get fresh vegetables.  Fjord still couldn’t quite get used to the taste of vegetables that didn’t come out of a can—they weren’t quite sweet or salty enough—but he was getting there.)

One weekend, when they’d talked enough that they both felt comfortable just being, Fjord was sipping at a beer and stirring a pot of sauce, while Jester worked on a salad.  Suddenly, she burst out into peals of laughter, as if she’d said something hilarious.

Fjord turned around, taking another sip from the can, and said, “Anything you want to share with the class?”

Jester waggled a massive cucumber in the air.  “I was just thinking about this video I was watching the other night and this girl was in the kitchen and she hopped up on the counter—“ Jester hopped up on the counter.  “—And just went to town on a cucumber.”  She gripped the cucumber in one hand and pretended to thrust it towards her crotch.  She locked Fjord in the eyes and said earnestly, “It was the fakest orgasm I have ever seen.  She was all writhing on the counter and ‘Oh!  Oh, yes! Oh!’  I mean, really.”  She paused and held out the cucumber, looking at it quizzically.  “She really should have been able to get off on it.  Look at the size of this thing. The girth alone should have done it.”  Jester bit her lip.  “I wonder if something’s wrong with her.  I should look her up and message her.”

During this speech (after choking on his beer), Fjord had grown so hot it felt like the sun was burning down on him.  Jester had made little asides or suggestive looks, but this was her first straight out explicit comment.  It didn’t help that she’d put the image of her watching porn in his head.  He pushed that away immediately.

“Jess, maybe that’s, ah, sharing too much.”

Jester’s mind slowly drifted off the cucumber and her eyes went wide.  “Oh, I’m sorry!”  She hopped down from the counter and put the cucumber on the cutting board.  “I’ve been trying not to say things like that when you are around.  I know they make you uncomfortable.”

Fjord rubbed his neck.  “Well, I don’t want you to change how you act because of me.  Uh, this is your place too.  I want you to be comfortable.”

“Oh, it’s okay.  I will just think them.”

Fjord took a deep breath.  He didn’t want Jester to be . . . less Jester.  Something about that felt . . . wrong.  “Well, how about this.  You don’t be so explicit and I’ll try to get used to, uh, your other more suggestive comments.”

Jester had scrunched up her face.  At the time, Fjord hadn’t been able to tell whether it was because she really didn’t want to stop or because she really didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.  He’d figured out later it was him.  “Are you sure you’re really okay with any of it?”

Later, Fjord remembered that he jumped too quickly on her question.  “Yeah.  Yeah.  No problem.  Yeah.  No problem.”

Jester had given him a small smile and an “okay” and they’d continued with their cooking.  It was probably their best meal so far.

(And Jester’d been really good about it except for that time she found out Fjord was a virgin.  He had Molly and Beau to blame for that little “joy.”  The problem with playing Truth or Dare, even if you don’t have to answer, is that not answering sometimes answers the question.  He’d tried to play it cool, but Jester had latched onto his words like a hound latching on to the scent of a fox.  He would have preferred to go his whole life without hearing Jester ask “how often he took his dick for a test drive.” Thankfully, Beau had derailed the whole thing when she realized Yasha _wasn’t_ a virgin.  That girl was going to throw a muscle out if she didn’t stop thirsting so hard.)

The point was that Jester was smart, funny, cute, and she cared.  Really cared, in a way Fjord wasn’t used to.  She tried to respect boundaries (even if she didn’t always see them in the same way other people did) and she was always there.

Like the time back in the fall when Fjord had been hacking up a lung, nose stuffed up to the point that he couldn’t breathe.  There may have even been a bit of a fever.  He knew that he felt a lot colder than he usually did.  But Fjord had just pushed through for a day—getting up at the same time, working the same hours, running to school in the evening.  He had to admit now that he’d been feeling a little run down by it all, but it didn’t really matter when your paycheck and education depended on getting out there.

It was on the third day—when Fjord’s chest was starting to rumble and the bags under his eyes were almost a mile long—that Jester forced the issue.  He’d felt her eyes boring into his head while he made breakfast, but he hadn’t expected to approach the kitchen table to find Jester, with her arms crossed, giving him a mean scowl.

“Fjord, you are not taking care of yourself.”

Fjord gave a long phlegmy cough and then said, “I’ve got to keep going, Jess.”  He shrugged and sat down.  Then sneezed.  And blew his nose unsuccessfully.

“You are going to ‘keep going’ into an early grave.”

“I’m pretty sure a lack of housing isn’t going to serve either of us very well.”

Jester gave him exaggerated eyeroll.  “We are not going to get kicked out our apartment because you don’t work one day.”

“Jess, I really don’t know what you want me to do.”

“Nothing!”  She threw up her arms and shot him a grin.  She pulled out her phone and pulled up a group chat.  She shoved it in his face.  “Grog has already found someone to cover your shift and Molly is going to make excuses for you at the Theater department.”

Fjord blinked at the screen in front of him.  It was a bit blurry, but eventually the information sank into his snot-addled brain.  “Jester, you can’t do that.”

“Too bad!  I already did!”

If he didn’t feel so shit, he thought he might actually have gotten angry.  “Jess, we can’t afford to lose—”

“I’m going to save more money from my job this month.”  She looked down guiltily.  “I know I spend too much.”  But then her face jumped back to a grin.  “And I called out from work this afternoon and Cali’s going to let my Professors know I’m out and get me any work . . . so I can make sure you rest!”

Fjord tried to sigh, but the breath just launched him into another coughing fit.  When it subsided, her said, “You’re really going to make me do this, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Fjord.  I’m going to make you rest.”  She clapped her hands to both her cheeks.  “The horror of it!”  She slipped into a small smile and brushed Fjord’s cheek.  “You need to take a break, okay?”

They’d spent most of the day in bed.  Fjord had been too exhausted to protest and Jester had volunteered to help him practice his two-hander pieces for class.  She had propped him up with pillows, got him a large cup of tea to hold (“and sniff!” she had exclaimed.  “It’s good for your breathing.”), and sat at the end of the bed with his book of scenes.

He hadn’t been very good.  They’d run through a few scenes, as he sipped at the tea, and then, cup empty, he’d given up and rolled over to get some sleep.  When he couldn’t sleep, Jester had offered to read to him and he’d been thankful for the distraction from the pressure in his head.

Her warmth, settling next to him, had also been a distraction.  When Jester was next to him, it was like he could breath more easily and, even with his lungs filled with gunk, today was no exception.  Behind him, Jester wiggled into her space and cleared her throat.

“He pulled her into his powerful arms and the smell of the ocean enveloped her.  He was everything to her: the air, the earth, the ocean.  He tilted her head back and . . .”

Fjord had chuckled and then coughed.  Of course, Jess had picked one of her romance novels to read.  But he didn’t care.  Just the sound of her voice was enough to bring a smile to his face.

There was something about Jester’s voice that was hard to describe.  When she was talking day-to-day, she bounced excitedly from topic to topic, her voice bouncing high with her.  But when she read--especially when she was reading something that she considered sexy--her voice dropped low and sultry, if a tad exaggerated.  But it wasn't that sexiness that Fjord liked when she spoke like that.  It was the way she seemed to savor every word.  Fjord took his time with his words—it was a natural consequence of his drawl—but everyone just seemed to think he was relaxed.  That wasn't the impression you got from Jester's voice.  No one thought Jester’s voice was relaxed.  No, but her voice lingered, like syrup.  Every word she spoke was given her own special turn, her own brand of personal sweetness.  And it wasn’t cold and sticky.  No—and, here, Fjord thought the cold medicine might be kicking in—her sweetness was warm, like syrup over a fresh stack of flapjacks.  Listening to her say something as basic as "Hold me in your muscled arms," there was a feeling of warmth that washed over Fjord.

That was about the point Fjord drifted into sleep.  His last memory of Jester reading being “The kiss hit her like a breaker.”

When he’d woken, the sun was fading fast.  But when he rolled over, Jester was still in bed, cross-legged, leaning over one of her textbooks.  She looked up when he moved and smiled, wide and carefree.  “Hello, sleepyhead.   Feeling better?”

He had to admit that he was.  Maybe a little care was just the thing he needed.  And that was the thing about Jester.  She always knew just the thing to make Fjord feel that little bit better.  She was just bursting with happiness and care.  He figured he was pretty susceptible to that—he wasn’t used to someone . . . caring about him.

That was another way he knew it was a crush.

It was also why Fjord was willing to go out of his way to show Jester he cared.  She’d done so much for him, anything he did wasn’t going to be enough.  So, when the “Beau issue” wasn’t resolved by the time he got back from work and Jester got back from class, he suggested dinner and some studying before they headed off to their respective lives.  Fjord knew that a Jester distracted was a happy Jester.  So they jumped in his rundown, rusty ’73 Mustang and headed to campus.

Dinner was a quick bite at the campus café (it was all Fjord could afford and he wanted to buy) and then the two of them settled in at the Student Union before Jester ran to studio and Fjord to rehearsal.  They were lounging together like they always did.  Jess had her feet planted in his lap, some aesthetics book held high above her head.  Fjord had his script propped up on Jester’s ankles.

And that was also how Fjord knew what he had was just a crush.

See, Jester always described love as an electric shock.  You touched, there was a jolt, and you knew that there was a connection there.  Least, that’s what Jester always said and Fjord didn’t know.  Jester was a lot more experienced in that kind of thing.  And, here they were, together, touching, and there was no electric shock.  Being with Jester was like . . . being wrapped up in the scent of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.  Warm, cozy.  Sure, a little bit intoxicating, but more like a soft blanket than anything else.  Jester would envelop you in a big friendly hug and you’d feel just right.

That’s how Fjord knew it wasn’t love.

But it didn’t really matter.  Fjord liked getting this little bit of extra time.  At the apartment they were always hurrying past each other, on their way to school or work.  Fjord missed those weeks before school started when they’d been able to just hang out.  Not doing anything in particular—just being.  They’d talked a lot during those weeks.  He’d told her things he hadn’t told anyone else.  And she’d told him a lot in return.

“Hello Fjord!”  Jester’s voice broke in with a sing-song shout.

Fjord tore his eyes away from his script (which he had to admit had just been a place to stare for the last little bit) and said, “Ah, yeah?”

Jester had rested the book on the top of her head and was giving him a concerned look.  “I’ve been shouting your name for like ten minutes!”

Fjord chuckled. “Well, I can’t imagine I was that out of it.  What’s up?”

Jester pursed her lips.  “I was just thinking, well, what if Beau goes back to the apartment and she needs help and we’re not there.”  There were honestly tears welling up in her eyes.  “I want to be there if she needs us!”

“You haven’t been reading a word of your book either, have you?”

Jester sat up, crisscrossing her legs.  The aesthetics book fell off her head.  “Have you been worrying too?  Do you think we should skip class, just in case?”

“No, no,” he said hastily.  He didn’t need to add to Jester’s worries.  “I haven’t been worrying.  I think Beau’s just fine.  I’ve seen her kick a man’s ass too many times to think anything serious happened to her.  She probably just had an astonishingly good date.”

“But what if her date was a serial killer.  Like—like, one of those people who only gets off when they’re cutting people up and Beau thought she was going to have a good time, but then this—this Keyleth like chloroformed her and dragged her into her secret torture sex dungeon—”

Fjord held up a hand.  “Alright, alright.  I don’t think that happened, Jess, but I get your concern.  Things can go wrong.  What do you want to do?”

Jester flung her arms in the air.  “I don’t know!  When can we call the police?”

“Okay.”  Fjord scratched his head.  “I’ll tell you what.  If we can’t get a hold of her by tomorrow morning, we’ll start looking for her.”  He looked at Jester’s face.  He knew a lot of people dismissed her feelings because they were so big, but he could tell that she really was hurting about Beau.  He glanced at his script and took a deep breath.  “For tonight, how about this: You go to studio, just like normal—”  He knew Jester.  If she got her head somewhere else she’d be fine.  “—and I’ll head back to the apartment in case Beau’s shows up.”

Jester’s face lit up and she leaped into a hug around Fjord, but, almost immediately, her arms loosened and the light flickered out.  “You need to go to rehearsal!”  She nodded.  “I’ll skip studio.”

Fjord gave her a little squeeze.  “That doesn’t make any sense.  I probably won’t even get any scenes on stage and their doing a lot of technical staging right now.  No one will miss me.  I’ll text Molly right now.”

He could feel the argument in Jester’s body, but he wiggled his phone out of his pocket.

“Nothing you can do about it.  Sending the text right now.”  He swiped out a quick message.  “It’s sent.  No choice.”

Her head still buried in his chest, Jester said, “You stink.  Thank you.”  Then she bounced backwards.  “You will text me as soon as you hear from Beau?”  She chewed at the tip of her thumb.  “We’re not supposed to have our phone on during figure drawing, but . . . I will anyway!”

Fjord smiled, warm but tight.  Making Jester smile made him feel light, like an untethered balloon.  “So we’re settled.  I’ll head home in a little bit just in case and I’ll pick you up after studio.  We’ll make a night of it.  If we need to.”

They’d settled back to studying after that and stayed fairly quiet (except for Jester’s fairly frequent groans about Adorno being a dreary mucky-muck) until it was time for Jester to run to studio.  After that, Fjord hopped in his car and headed back to the apartment.

The key stuck in the lock like usual, but Fjord just gave it a heavy nudge and the door flew open.  The apartment was still dark, which meant Beau wasn’t back, but that wasn’t unusual.  Fjord didn’t know why, but something told him Beau wasn’t going to be back tonight.  She’d seemed unusually worried about the date and that meant, if it had gone well, then . . . she’d probably be taking advantage of that to find a new place to crash.  It wasn’t that Fjord thought Beau was someone to _take_ advantage, but she also wasn’t someone to turn down a free place to stay, especially if there was a steady supply of sex.  Long story short, for all Jester’s worries, Beau was probably having the time of her life.

Which also meant, Jester and him were in for the long haul tonight.  Fjord tooled around the apartment, picking up some crumbled papers Beau had left on the floor and some wrappers Jester had left on the table.  Honestly, none of them had enough stuff to truly make a mess, but Fjord liked to keep what little they had neat.  When he was done, he glanced at the clock.  He still had over an hour left.

That’s when he decided he might as well give Jester the little surprise that had been percolating in the back of his head.

Fjord was not great at baking.  He’d gotten a lot better at cooking, but baking was a skill that still escaped him.  Jester, of course, had taken to baking immediately.  She’d started with cookies and moved up to cupcakes and brownies and then more complicated items like brioches and creampuffs.  Fjord had stuck to burgers and steaks.  Things that didn’t require precise cooking.  You cook a steak too much it was a bit tough, but edible.  You cooked a brioche too much and it was a burnt mess.  Fjord could stand tough, but he needed the room to make that mistake.  Apparently, Jester would go through anything for sweetness.  It was kind of her thing.

So cooking cupcakes was a bit of a challenge.  But, Fjord figured, he knew how to put ingredients together and he knew how to use the oven.  Those were really the only two skills you needed for cupcakes.

Twenty minutes later, he was a bit more doubtful.  The cupcakes were in the oven.  The oven was set to the correct temperature.  And Fjord had set a timer on his phone.  The counter was covered with flour, sugar, and stray egg; and Fjord was fairly certain that there was something wrong with the icing.  But he waited.  Sitting on the floor, staring at the oven, he could feel the heat against his skin.  He knew enough not to open the oven door until the timer was close to done, but his palms itched to check it ever couple minutes.  He had a toothpick ready—balanced between his thumb and forefinger—to poke the insides.  Finally, as the timer counted down, Fjord could smell the sugar and butter in the air.  It was a smell that he knew excited Jester—sweet and creamy.  It smelled right.

They were right.  The timer went off, Fjord opened the over, and the toothpick came out clean.  He let the cupcakes sit for ten minutes precisely (that was what the recipe said, after all) and then levered them out of the pan with a knife.  They were perfect.  Fjord was smiling before he even realized it.  He had the icing slathered on in just a few minutes.

There wasn’t a lot of time before he needed to get Jester, but, before he left, he arranged the cupcakes quickly on a plate and set them on the table.  A surprise to distract.  She wouldn’t see it coming.

When he pulled up to the curb, Jester was waiting with her portfolio and supply box.  She swung open the door, plopping her things inside, and then sniffed the air.  She gave Fjord a curious look.  “You smell very good tonight.  Have you been eating pastries?’

Fjord was glad for the darkness.  “Nope, guess that’s just my natural scent.”

“No, I don’t think so,” she said, “If you smelled like that all the time, I’d have to eat you up!”

Jester giggled in the dark and they set off for the apartment, talking casually about this and that.  Jester chattered a little about the studio session and the woman who posed (“Oh, Fjord, you should have seen her, she was gorgeous!”) and what she was hoping to do with her art this semester while Fjord mostly listened.

As they turned onto their street, Jester said, “This was a lot easier.  We should ride in together more often!”

“I’m happy to,” said Fjord, “We just got to make sure our schedules line up.  Usually you’re pulling your shift at the coffee shop when I have to leave.”

“True.”  Jester pulled at her lip.

“You know, Jess, if you learned to drive stick, you could borrow my car when I’m not using it.”

“Maybe you could teach me how to handle _your_ stick some time.”  She started to waggle her eyebrows at Fjord and then made a little squeak and covered her mouth.  “Sorry!”

Fjord squinted into the night.  “What are you sorry for?”

“I have been trying not to flirt with you because Molly says it makes you self-conscious.”

Fjord coughed.  “Molly said that?”

“Well,” Jester squished up her face, “Technically, he said that he liked how it made your skin turn a darker shade of brown.  But I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Fjord could already feel his cheeks growing warm and he was glad for the darkness.  “Ah, well, I thought you liked making me blush.”

Jester bit her lip and then giggled.  “I do!  You are super cute when you are flustered!”  If her smile was a light, it would have been beaming.  “But, I also don’t want you to be uncomfortable and—well, we talked about that, right?”

“If I’m remembering correctly, we also talked about you not changing yourself around me, right?”

Jester rolled her eyes and dropped her voice into her lower “this is silly” register.  “Yes, Fjord.”

“Sides, I know you don’t mean anything by it.  It’s just harmless fun.”

“Oh.”

Fjord turned onto their street and started looking for a parking space.  Parking was almost impossible at this time of night.

“Right.  Yeah,” said Jester finally, “I hope Beau is okay.”

Fjord chuckled.  “I’m telling you, she’s off having a great time.”  He spied a tight spot a block up from their apartment and started to back in.

“Mmhmm.”  Jester sank down in the seat and pulled her supply box onto her lap, hugging it tight.

Fjord brought the car to a stop.  “But, even if there’s nothing wrong, let’s make sure we have a good time tonight.”

Jester gave an unenthusiastic nod.  “Okay, Fjord.”  She ducked out of the car.

As they walked up the block, Fjord looked at Jester in confusion.  “You okay?”

Jester scrunched up her face and gave Fjord a look like her was crazy.  “Yeah.  Of course, I’m okay.”

“Oh, alright.”  He gave her another quick glance and then shook his head.  “Sorry.  I’m just not great at reading people, you know.  I usually have to be bashed over the head with something, so I always make sure.”  Fjord fumbled with the keys a moment and then opened the front door.  He gestured for Jester to go in.  “So if something’s wrong, I hope you’d tell me.  So I can help.”

Jester breathed out slowly and pulled her shoulders back.  She flashed Fjord a smile.  “No, everything is a-okay!”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

The pair of them made their way up the rickety stairs to their second floor apartment.  Jester’s arms filled with her supplies, Fjord once again did the honors and opened the door with a hefty nudge.  He flicked on the light, but his eyes were steady on Jester’s face.

And there it was: the jump of surprise in her eyes, the quick spread of a smile across her faces, the skip in her step.  The smell of baking must have hit her nose first, but she quickly bounded into the apartment and took in the spread of cupcakes on the kitchen table.

She spun around.  “Fjord?  Did you do this?”

Fjord ran his hand through his hair and averted his eyes.  “Yeah, I guess I did. I thought—”

Jester launched into a hug, dropping her things on the floor with a thud and knocking the breath out of Fjord.  She buried her head in his chest.  For a moment, Fjord was caught off guard, his arms flailing wide, but then he relaxed into her touch and let his arms wrap her up.  There was that warmth that radiated off her like a homemade quilt.  And the smell of paint and pastries in her hair.  A cocked smile slipped onto Fjord’s face.

Jester lifted her head and Fjord was startled to see tears in her eyes.

“Thank you, Fjord.”

He stepped back (her hands lingering at his side) and cocked his head.  “Now, what’s this about?”

Jester wipe her eyes.  “This is stupid.”  She looked up at Fjord, her other hand still lightly touching his side.  “You’re just so nice.”

“Well, I don’t see what’s so sad about that.  Though I appreciate the compliment.”

Jester shrugged.  “I don’t know.  I just love that we are friends.”

Fjord laughed nervously.  Jester was playing tug-of-war with his heart.  “Well, uh, I love that too, but I don’t think that’s a cause for tears.”

“I know!”  Jester’s lips slipped into a pout and she stomped the ground with her feet.  “I said this was stupid!”

Fjord rested his hand on her shoulder and turned her around, pulling the door to the apartment shut.  “Is there something more going on than Beau?  I—I—I’m confused.”

They walked over to the couch and sat down, Jester plopping, her limps loose and flailing.  She slouched down, hands in her lap, eyes downcast.

Fjord peeked down to catch her eye.  “Seriously, Jess, what’s going on?

“Fjord?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever had a crush on someone?”

Fjord froze and felt his cheeks burn hot.  He was glad that Jester was still looking at her hands.  “Oh—uh—”  He swallowed.  “Yeah, Jess, I guess I have.”  Fjord racked his brain.  Who could Jester be talking about.  Molly?  Cali?  Beau?  It had never occurred to Fjord that Jester might have a crush on Beau.  But . . it made sense, didn’t it?

Jester finally raised her head.  “Did you ever tell them?”

If it was Beau, that would explain Jester’s extreme worry—the stress from a lack of texts, the over-the-top thoughts about this Keyleth person being a serial killer.  Hell, it even explained why Jester shot him dirty looks when he tried to gently nudge Beau towards job opportunities and maybe finding her own place again.  It explained a lot of things.  And for some reason that made Fjord’s whole body tense up.

Fjord could feel his whole face burning with embarrassment.  He was just glad that his skin was dark enough to generally hide the flush.  “Jess—uh, do—do you have a crush on Beau?”

The question seemed to shock Jester out of her funk.  She screwed up her face, her eyes wide.  “No,” she said, “I—Beau?”  Jester thought about it a moment.  “I mean, she’s super attractive and athletic and could probably do some amazing things with her body—if you know what I mean—but, no, not Beau!”  Her nose wrinkled up (Fjord noticed how cute it was like that).  “Why did you think it was Beau?”

“Well, you were so worried today.  And just now you were so upset.  I really couldn’t figure out what it could be.  Then you asked about the crush and . . . well.”

Jester laughed.  “Beau is my friend.  You care about friends.  You worry about them.”  She shrugged and then looked at Fjord suspiciously.  “Were you . . . jealous of Beau?”

Shit.  Fjord rubbed the back of his head and then took one of Jester’s hands.  “Look, Jess, I—I know this is silly—”  Fjord took in a deep breath.  “—but—“

The door to the apartment flew open with a bang and Beau’s voice broke through the air like a battering ram.  “Hey bitches!  Miss me?”  Beau was still wearing the same clothes as when she left the night before: a black suit and white dress shirt.  Although now the whole thing was rumpled, the dress shirt untucked, the tie missing.

Fjord and Jester jumped apart—Jester popping up towards the door and Fjord towards the far end of the couch.

“Beau!” said Jester, giving her a hug.  She sniffed for a moment and crinkled her nose.  “You stink.”

Beau wrapped her arms around Jester and lifted her an inch off the ground in a huge bear hug.  She shrugged.  “Well, I didn’t shower.”  She glanced over at the table.  “Are those cupcakes?”  Then she looked meaningfully at Jester and lowered her voice.  “Are those _Molly_ cupcakes?”

Jester laughed.  “No, Fjord made them for me!  All by himself!”  She turned and flashed him a wide smile.

Fjord gave her a thin smile back.  His heart was still pounding away in his chest.

Beau shot him a look over his head.  “Shit, man, making cupcakes, huh?”

Fjord rallied himself.  “That’s right.  I’m a baker now.”

Beau rolled her eyes.  “Okay.  Well, you two enjoy your cupcakes.”  She pulled up her shirt and sniffed.  “Jester’s right.  I stink.  I’m going to take a shower.”  She rummaged through her duffle bag in the corner for some clothes and headed towards the bathroom.

Just when she reached the hall, Beau paused and looked back and Jester and Fjord.  “Hey, Jess, can I crash in your bed?  You can wake me up when you head to bed and I’ll move to the couch.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Beau!  We can share!”

“Well, I was just thinking you might want to share with—“  Beau wave her hand dismissively.  “You know what, never mind.”  And she stomped off to take her shower.

Beau left a long silence in her wake.  Fjord drummed his fingers on the back of the couch and stared at a pillow.  Jester stared off after Beau, her eyes distant.  She worried her lip.

But then she snapped back to attention and flashed a grin at Fjord.  “Let me eat some of your delectable cupcakes!”

Fjord gave her a soft smile.  He didn’t know why, but he suddenly felt sad.  He hoped it didn’t show.  He didn’t want Jester to find something new to worry about now that Beau was back, safe and sound.  “Sure, Jess.   A little sweetness in your life can only do you good.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Next Time:** Beau/Keyleth
> 
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